I Bleed
by Rozielle
Summary: "You left me at the start. The silence is deafening my heart. I examine my scars. Losing my mind, wondering just what we are." Self-insert/Fledgling plot-line with a twist. Possible pairings and overall supernatural bedlam. Read and review, please!
1. I Bleed

_**Disclaimer: ** I do not own anything pertaining to the Vampire the Masquerade franchise. It belongs to White Wolf and other respective sponsors. I am not receiving any monetary benefit from writing this fan-fiction; it is purely for my own and others' entertainment._

_**Author's Note: **So, I've been dinking around with this idea since I started watching walkthroughs for Vampire the Masquerade: Bloodlines. I've played the game before and I enjoyed running through it, but anyway...I started an Elder Scrolls self-insert a while back. Still working on it, albeit slowly, but I thought it would be fun since I've been watching these walkthrough videos to do the same for VtMB. I decided though that I want to add some extra characters to the list so they'll be appearing in this fic. It won't follow the Fledgling storyline exactly, but I will try to keep it on track. Also, just to let you know, I will be keeping to the maps in the game as far as places to go and see in Los Angeles. I'm not a native to LA and while I do have Google Maps, I'd prefer to stay with what we know. :)_

_Also, keeping in mind when I say "self-insert", I literally mean I'm inserting myself into the world and the decisions therein are probably how I would react. It's come to my attention that a lot of people who read a self-insert think the main is just a character. No. It's me. Names have been shortened/lengthened/changed to accommodate privacy but otherwise, the memories and some of the information herein are actually part of my life. I am a Spanish major. I have never been to LA personally and my first time at the beach and seeing the ocean was on Chincoteague Island. Just thought I would clear that up right away._

_Being that I am in college, this fic will progress slowly so if you like it, please favorite this fic!_

_Let me know what you think? :)_

* * *

_**I Bleed**_

"_You left me at the start_

_The silence is deafening my heart  
I examine my scars_

_Losing my mind_

_Wondering what we are."_

_-Halestorm, 'I Bleed'_

My family never understood it. A hot sandy beach and salty ocean water never delighted them, and though I'd been landlocked most of my life, nothing held a candle to how I felt with the sound of the ocean caressing my ears or the salt in my skin when I walked along a beach. It was its own kind of zen and it made my ever-busy mind quiet. It eased my soul. My first experience was on Chincoteague Island in Virginia and I could recall how quiet my whole being became when I stepped onto the white sand and heard the song of crashing waves. It was no different when my best friend, Annaliese, and I stepped onto the Santa Monica beach. I felt the ease wash over me and smiled at her. We'd both had this big dream to visit California and over the last year, we'd saved up to do so, even though we were a couple of poor college students. Standing on the beach now, it was more than worth the wait, even though it was clearly a busy day. There were people everywhere, tanning on their towels, relaxing under umbrellas, kids chasing each other around and the older kids batting around a volley-ball with their fists. There were even some kids playing foot-ball in the shallows.

A rented surf board was tucked in my arm. It was a short-board, which was probably either really brave of me or really stupid. It remained to be seen. I took a boogie-board out on the water at Chincoteague and after being trampled by a couple of waves, I decided that I was going to be a beach bum for the rest of the day. A mouthful of ocean water was enough to convince me that getting barreled sucked. I had no muscle then and I couldn't handle the harsh waves that day. Now, however, my body was strong. I made it a point to visit the local Y back home so I could train in my swimming. Hopefully this time around, the ocean wouldn't entirely kick my ass.

"I'll go find a place to settle down," Annaliese said with a grin. "Go and have some fun, Ash."

She knew I was itching to get on the water. "You sure?" I asked, feeling a bit of guilt for leaving her to find a spot for our towels and beach bag.

"Definitely. Go ahead," she answered, grabbing my towel off my shoulder, my oval-shaped glasses off my nose, and making her way down the beach. Annaliese was a slender girl with long dark hair, currently pulled up in a ponytail, and warm, earthy brown eyes. She was more slender than me and pale, but very pretty, turning a few heads as she made her way down the beach. As far as coloring went, I was her opposite. My hair was to my waist, a sheet of pure gold running down my back. I had it pulled up to keep it from getting tangled while I swam. My eyes were icy blue and my skin was somewhat tan from spending days at the local pool back home with my family. I was also slender, but more filled-out than Annaliese.

I took a little time to attach the leg-rope to my ankle. The board was already waxed for me and as I hit the water, I felt the thrill tighten in my belly. I couldn't wait to take this short-board for a whirl, even though I was pretty sure I would get barreled a few times. I decided to stick to smaller waves to start with and after a bit, I figured out (with some difficulty) how to get over a wave without either falling off or getting a face full of salt water. Watching a couple of the other surfers around me push their boards and themselves underwater to dodge the waves, I began doing so until I was in a good spot. I took a moment to catch my breath, already feeling winded by the experience. My heart drummed hard in my chest. _Well, this is a lot harder than you thought, isn't it?_ asked my sensible side.

_Better to try and get my ass kicked than cower on the beach like last time,_ I thought, stubbornly.

I attempted several times to catch a wave over the next hour or so. Suffice to say, I had my share of nose-dives, misses, and barrels, with little success. Feeling a bit put-out, I opted for a rest and made my way back to shore to find Annaliese. When I found her, I stuck the tail of my board into the sand and flopped down on my towel, which she'd laid out for me, not caring that the leg-rope as still attached to my ankle.

"No luck?" she asked. She was sitting in a beach-chair with a pair of sunglasses on her nose and a book in her hands.

"Nope," I replied, rubbing my face and sighing.

"You'll figure it out," she said, encouragingly. I smiled. She was always more positive than me and as long as I wasn't doing something stupid, she always encouraged me to do better. She was one of the few friends that I could say would be in my life for a long time to come.

I could imagine having family get-togethers each year once we both settled down. I figured it would be a while for the both of us though. College and travel were important things to both of us, especially given our mutual love for language. Annaliese's love lie in Japanese. Growing up, both of us fell into the stereotype of anime geeks, and with classes available to her at the local community college, Annaliese decided to go a step further than I. I, on the other hand, spent almost two years after graduation trying to figure out what I wanted and after my first semester of college Spanish, I decided that I wanted to become a Spanish teacher. That was three years ago. I was twenty-three now and reaching higher than a mere bachelor's degree. I wanted to get a doctorate and be the first doctor in my family, but at the same time, I wanted to find a balance between my work and my play. I wanted to travel the world too.

Still, that was a ways away. I had to get my bachelor's first and my master's before I could even consider further plans. In the mean-time, I liked to brain-storm.

"So what should we do tonight?" I asked. "Go paint the town?"

"If you want," Annaliese replied with a laugh. "Where should we go?"

I considered that. I didn't know much about Santa Monica but what little bit I read in one of those airplane magazines on my way here. I sat up and looked over at the person nearest me. He was a young guy, probably a college student, laid out next to his girlfriend. I was jealous of how tan their skin was, but I supposed that was a luxury, living in California. It made me think of the Midwest and how our definition of nice weather were days when we weren't freezing our tits off and there wasn't any snow. The older generation tended to complain about the summer heat, but I would take summer heat over -30º any day.

"Hey," I called to them. "Excuse me? Do you by chance know any good clubs in the area?"

The couple perked their bleach-blonde heads up, lazily. "There's a couple of places around here that are good. Where are you guys staying?" the boy asked.

"Empire Hotel," I replied, simply, thinking of our luxurious little suite on the first floor. It stretched the budget a bit to stay there but they'd also given us a fifteen-percent discount for staying over a period of seven days.

"Well, in Downtown, there's Confession," the girlfriend said.

"And the Asp Hole in Hollywood. Oh, and if you like strippers, Vesuvius is a good place to go," grinned the boy, only to be smacked upside the head by his girlfriend.

"Do I look butch or something?" I asked, jokingly, making the couple laugh. I looked to Annaliese. "Hey, let's go check out some naked chicks!"

"Say hi to VV for me!" College Boy said with a grin, only to get smacked by his girlfriend again. "Haha! I'm just kidding, Nina, jeez!"

Annaliese gave a soft laugh but wrinkled her nose. "You can," she said, "but I'll take a rain check."

I chuckled. Not that I would've minded going to Vesuvius. I'd never been to a strip-club before, unless you counted that time I stuck my head in at Sheik's in Minneapolis, but that was about the extent of my strip-club antics. As far as sexuality went, the average person would identify me as bisexual. I didn't really care about labels. I dated all sorts of people. Nothing seemed to stick though.

Relationships were always a struggle for me. None of them lasted long and I imagined that had something to do with my soft spot for broken things. All of my exes were broken mentally, in some way or another. The first convinced himself that nothing could touch him and wondered why bad things happened when he made bad choices. He sought out another girl and he bullied us both, cheated, and then he wondered why we took each others' hand and walked out of his life. The second suffered a case of identity crisis. He convinced himself he was meant to be female, at the suggestion of someone he barely knew over the internet, and though he attempted to take on a female persona, mimicking me in an attempt to follow by example, he was inherently male in my mind. It wasn't his anatomy that made him male to me, but his attitude and his actions. The last one probably hit me the hardest because he was the one I genuinely loved, but he was broken as much as the other two. He was incapable of letting go of the past and in hopes of drowning it out, he drank heavily. I attempted to get him away from it but he thought replacing his booze with weed was acceptable. It wasn't, not to me. Ultimately, I couldn't take it, watching him destroy himself, but he was a destructive force. Like the first, he was a mirror that shattered himself all over the floor and didn't know how to pick up the pieces.

That was two years ago. Thinking about him didn't hurt anymore and the anger that once roiled like a black snake in my chest dissipated. I hoped he was doing better for himself, but my intuition said no, he wasn't. He was a creature of habit and he was destined to continue shattering the tiny pieces left of his soul. I hadn't really warmed to anyone since but I deemed my studies and work more important than another relationship I figured was going to fail. Maybe I would get to have a little fun while in Los Angeles though. I wouldn't mind a romp.

"Oh!" the girlfriend said, as if she forgot something. "There's a place here in Santa Monica called The Asylum. I've never been in there but my friend has. She said it was a good place to go if you like electronica. The scene is goth but maybe you like that sort of thing?"

"Sweet!" I grinned. It sounded like an interesting place.

"Sounds fun," Annaliese agreed.

"We'll have to go shopping later. I don't have any clubbing clothes," I said with a laugh. The most I packed for this trip was my bikini, Daisy Dukes, camis and my flip-flops. Suffice to say, it made the baggage lighter, but I hadn't considered that we might go clubbing and so I left all my party clothes back home. Not that I partied much back home. There weren't any real clubs where I lived, just bars with dance-floors, and I rarely got out to those. I looked forward to going to The Asylum.

We spent the day at the beach. I spent nearly two hours attempting to catch a wave with my limited skill. When I finally caught one, I spent the remainder of the afternoon catching them. It was a rush, being able to ride a wave like that, even if it was a small one and it lifted my spirits a great deal. Once four o'clock rolled around, Annaliese and I packed up our things. We stopped by one of the outdoor showers to get the sand off our skin and shared a dressing tent to get out of our bikinis and into some clothes. Afterward, we dropped off my board and took a cab back to Downtown.

I was excited about this outing. It would be my first time at a dance-club. As a teenager, I could recall imagining owning a club but after living in Minneapolis for a brief spell, I realized how much I disliked big cities. Even being driven back to the Empire Hotel in clogged Los Angeles traffic reminded me why I enjoyed the country. We didn't have to deal with loud noise, smog, or clogged traffic. There was space to run and I could ride my grandmother's horses. I was a country girl, through and through.

Still, I couldn't help but enjoy the chaos a little bit as we stepped out of our cab. We stopped by a little boutique where they catered to those with darker tastes in clothing. Honestly, the closest thing we had to a shop like this back home was Hottopic. It was a great deal of fun trying on different outfits, from lace and velvet to PVC and silver. I almost exploded with laughter when Annaliese came out dressed in a leather cat-suit that I chose for her. "You can't wear that, oh my god!" I laughed, covering my mouth when I came out of the dressing room, decked out in a little plaid dress. "If you dance in that, we'll have baked Annaliese." I could only imagine how hot someone would get dancing in that thing.

Annaliese looked at herself in the mirror, clearly uncomfortable in the form-fitting garment, but laughed as well. "This looks silly. Why did you pick this out?"

"For shits and giggles," I replied, sticking my tongue out at her. She returned to the dressing room to try on something else. I turned and looked at myself in the mirror. The plaid dress I wore was a halter-top dress with a cravat front, pinned with a skull. It was lined in black lace. I imagined putting my hair up, curling it maybe, and lining my eyes with black eyeliner and smoky eyeshadow. I probably needed a few accessories but I really enjoyed how the gown fit my curves. I decided it was made for me.

Annaliese came out shortly after dressed in a sweet little black dress. It had long sleeves made of a loose, sheer black material and it showed off her shoulders. It was a really elegant little dress and while I couldn't imagine her club-dancing in it, I thought it would be a crime if she didn't buy it. "Wow!" I said, looking her over. "Look at you, lady!"

"It is pretty, isn't it?" she asked, posing in the mirror.

"Definitely!" I agreed with a smile. "You have to buy this, Anna. It looks so good on you!"

She smiled in her sweet way, but looked at the tag. "A hundred bucks?!" she asked, incredulous. "What? Do they think we're made of money?!"

I laughed. My own dress was sixty but I expected to spend a lot of money on this trip. "Well, we are in Downtown, you know?" I asked.

"God..." she sighed, looking at herself in the mirror again. I could see her calculating whether or not it was worth it to buy the dress. "I really shouldn't spend that much. It's just a dress."

"Oh jeez..." I said, shaking my head. "We're on vacation. Splurge."

Another forty-five minutes of browsing produced boots for both of us, some make-up and accessories and before long, we were headed down the street with our bags. Our purses were somewhere around two-hundred dollars lighter but the way I figured it, it would be another memory for me to enjoy once I returned home.

* * *

I felt the excitement curl in my belly as Annaliese and I made our way down the elevator. I couldn't wait to get to the Asylum and do some dancing. It wasn't a well-known fact back home because I was something of a dark horse about my dancing talent. I didn't get out enough to do it and even when I did dance, it was mostly at home, away from prying eyes. Every now and then though, I would get a chance to show off my skill. When I was twelve, I was introduced to Shakira and after watching her video for "Whenever, Wherever" on MTV, I tried to mimic her movements while I was by myself. It evolved as I grew older and while I wasn't quite as practiced as Shakira or popular belly-dancers like Ansuya, Rachel Brice, and Didem, I could shimmy my hips and bend myself in ways that made most people raise a brow. That wasn't to say I was a contortionist though. I could still remember one of the girls from homecoming during my senior year asking me how I learned to belly-dance, though she was more interested in trying to feel up my boyfriend. I could remember him apologizing for her behavior and I had to give him credit for trying to make her leave him alone by disappearing into the crowd. I didn't care at the time. I was too happy and really enjoyed being able to let loose for once. It was too bad I didn't get to do so more often. Dancing with a lot of people was fun.

The elevator dinged and the two of us came out of the elevator. We took the time to curl each others' hair and help with make-up when we were upstairs. It wasn't often I painted my mouth red. At least, I hadn't done so since I was a child getting into my grandmother's make-up but with my new light-gold tan convinced me doing so wouldn't make me look like I had jaundice. My eyes were lined in black, as were Annaliese's, though her lips were painted a light pink. She looked delicate but beautiful.

Apparently I wasn't the only one who noticed her looks. When we were walking out of the lobby to go catch a cab, two gentlemen were departing each others' presence. One was tall, slender and bedecked in a 50s-style suit. He was pale, dark hair peppered with gray, and probably in his early fifties. The other was also slender but considerably shorter, younger, and blonde of hair. The blonde was a handsome one, also dressed in a suit, though his seemed more up-to-date. What seemed really out of place though was the gargantuan, dark-skinned man next to the blonde. He stood like a sentinel, looking around with his strange eyes. He wore a duster that looked like it was made out of elephant hide and his fists were bigger than my head.

The older one stopped speaking briefly as we passed and spared Annaliese a once-over. The other did the same but his eyes didn't hold the same interest as the older gentleman's.

"I can see you're feeling distracted," the blonde one said in a condescending tone. If not for the British accent, I might have found him extremely unattractive for his tone but I was a sucker for British accents and so I only smirked toward Annaliese. "We'll continue this conversation another time."

"By your leave, LaCroix," the gentleman answered.

We headed out the doors to catch another cab back to Santa Monica. Once we were out of earshot, I burst out laughing. "That old guy wanted you, Anna," I said.

Annaliese rolled her eyes. "Please," she said. "He was probably looking at you. Why aren't you all giddy? You like old men."

"Nope, he was definitely looking at you," I disagreed with a grin. A cab pulled up just then and a couple dressed in expensive clothes got out. Annaliese and I slipped across the seats shortly after they paid. "And I'm pretty sure since the last one my interest in older guys has pretty much gone away. That blonde one was hot though."

"Of course he was," she replied with another roll of her eyes and a shake of her head. She leaned forward and spoke to the driver. "The Asylum in Santa Monica, please."

I closed the door and joked the rest of the way to Santa Monica about Annaliese and her old man. In return, she razzed me about my ex-boyfriends. I didn't mind. She was probably right anyway. When we arrived at the Asylum, there were people malingering outside, smoking cigarettes and chatting. There was a young man passed out on the steps. As I stepped over him, I laughed a little. "Go big or go home, I guess," I joked.

"Party hardy," agreed Annaliese.

We went through one of the double-doors. Thankfully the place wasn't packed, and after checking our I. D.s with the bouncer, we made our way inside. The thrum of the electronica and the scent of sweating bodies, booze, and vanilla-scented mist found me first. Then came the strobe-lights and the interior of the club. The walls were red and white, painted to look grungy with posters of bands scattered all over the place. A huge stage was directly ahead and there were two large Corinthian-styled columns next to two sets of stairs up to a balcony area. The bar was bedecked with Grecian molding and overall, it had a pretty nice feel to it. Though the crowd looked a little strange, especially with a couple of guys running around in zentai masks and leather pants. Then again, what could one expect walking into a club called The Asylum? "Let's go get some drinks!" I said to Annaliese, attempting to talk over the music.

"Yeah," she agreed, following me over to the bar. We squeezed between a couple of women sitting at the bar to talk with the bartender. One of the women was blonde with her hair in pig-tails, dressed like a naughty Catholic school girl. Her mouth was painted in a perpetual pout and if I were a less polite person, I'd probably be staring down her shirt. I kept my eyes to myself though. The woman on the other side of me was dark-haired with bangs, a leather cat-suit and sunglasses.

"Excuse us," I smiled to them, leaning on the bar. My eyes trained on the bartender. He was a tough-looking guy with tattoos galore. "Me and my friend here are thirsty."

The bartender was already leaning on the bar toward me and the other women. "And what can I get ya?"

I checked out the selection behind him, glad to find my good ol' UV sitting on the second shelf. "UV Blue and Mountain Dew for me," I said, looking back at Annaliese. "Qué quieres, chica?"

"I'll just have the same thing," she said with a shrug.

"Make that two, please," I grinned.

"Eight bucks," he answered and I handed him a ten.

"Next one's on me," Annaliese promised from behind me.

"Don't worry about it," I replied with a dismissive wave of my hand. I offered a ten dollar bill to the bartender.

"Aww, you two are adorable," cooed the blonde to my left. "Are you friends?"

"Of course they are," said the woman with the sunglasses. "Though I'm confused. How is it that Little Red Riding Hood and Carmen walk the same path? They have two very different stories."

Annaliese and I glanced at each other. The references we both understood but the woman's speech pattern was strange. Was she seeking attention or was that actually how she talked? Did she have some mental illness that made her talk that way? I might have asked what the deal was but I didn't even know her name and I didn't want to be impolite.

"We met online when we were sixteen," I shrugged as the bartender pushed our drinks to us. I handed one off to Annaliese and sipped at my own while the bartender went to get our change. "Been friends ever since."

The blonde smiled. "I've never seen you girls in here before. New to town?" She moseyed closer to me. Her sweet cooing tone grated on my nerves. She sounded like a porn-star.

"We're on vacation," Annaliese replied. "First time to California."

"Well! Then you'll just have to have a couple of drinks of me, won't you?" asked the woman. "My name's Jeanette. I own this place."

_Wow, that was a surprise. _I wasn't expecting her to give us free drinks nor did I suspect she was anything more than just another customer, but I suppose that was the advantage of dressing like her clientele. She could make sure things were running smoothly this way and keep a low profile. "Uh, thanks!" I said.

"And this is Maria," Jeanette indicated to the strange-talking woman.

"Nice to meet you," I grinned. The woman grinned back, revealing white teeth and to my candor, sharpened canines. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up at the sight of them. Once, the daredevil in me might have played with that fire but now, after years of hard-learned lessons, I knew better. I had to listen to my gut instinct to walk away. Thankfully, I wasn't the only one feeling uneasy as Annaliese grabbed my hand. "Come on, we came here to dance! Let's dance!"

I smiled and gladly followed my friend onto the dance-floor. I could feel Maria's eyes following me, like a doe caught in a hunter's cross-hair. I hoped she would leave things alone. The last thing I wanted was to deal with a creep during my vacation.

Annaliese and I danced together, shimmying hips and swaying our bodies to the beat. It felt good to let loose, to shake off all the pain and the weight of the last few years, and to let it get lost in the music. It was like shaking the broken pieces out of a mirror. They shattered against the floor and didn't matter anymore.

Three drinks later, Annaliese wasn't doing too badly for herself, dancing with a handsome, auburn-haired guy with stunning green eyes, and a drink in her hand. I smiled, watching her, but another body behind mine brought my attention away from her. Arms slipped around my waist, down my belly, and the familiar feel of a woman's body fitting perfectly against the grooves of my own body made me shudder. _Been a little too long for you, sweet_, my libido purred. _Have a little fun._

My drunken inhibition made me less conscious of boundaries and so when I turned my head back and claimed the stranger's mouth with my own, I was greeted with a delighted gasp and her arms pulling me closer; I felt a fresh wave of heat surge through my body when she kissed me back. My eyes fell closed as the divine heat danced through my nerves. She shifted me to face her and pulled the whole of my own body up against hers.

_ "Come play with the wolf, Little Red Riding Hood,"_ purred a familiar voice but when I opened my eyes, I found myself staring into Maria's sunglasses. However, I didn't feel the unease I had before.

It was strange. I felt like my mind was floating and her voice was so tempting, drawing me in so perfectly that I couldn't refuse her, not even as she urged me away from the crowd with the pull of her hand. I followed blindly, out of the club, across the street to apartments above a place called C. Moore's Coffee. The apartments were a dive to say the least but I was so preoccupied with following Maria and her captivating voice, ushering me along in such a sweet, seductive tone, that I couldn't have cared less about what the place looked like.

We reached a simple wooden door, which she unlocked with a key. She had several keys on her key ring, so many that I was sure she could've been a janitor of some kind. However, I didn't get much time to consider it as she brought me inside, closing and locking the door. I turned to face her and she took my face in her hands. They were cold but I wasn't bothered by that as she kissed away any thoughts in my head. I could feel the heat pooling low in my body and I gripped the lapels on her cat-suit to pull her close to me again. I was addicted to the taste of her mouth, to the feel of her hands slipping into my curls. She gave my hair a pull, eliciting a moan from me. Her hands then came down and settled on my hips and pushed me backwards. I felt the back of my legs touch the edge of a mattress and let myself fall. I didn't care that there were no bedclothes on the bed or that there were condoms, pills, bras and panties flung everywhere around the room.

It didn't matter.

Maria's mouth ghosted away from my mouth and across my cheek to my ear. I felt the heat and excitement relax my entire body, making me clay in her hands. I was completely at her mercy. "I want to show you something," she whispered.

She pulled back just enough to look down into my face. She opened her mouth and revealed those stunning white fangs of hers. Suddenly, I realized that I was indeed the doe in the hunter's cross-hair and I was about to experience what I perceived to be a great deal of pain. My eyes widened, my heart began to pound wildly against my chest but the scream that welled up in my throat was muffled by her gloved hand. Her fangs found my throat. Pain shot through the nerves only briefly. It was replaced by the most divine euphoria I'd ever experienced. My whole body felt like it was afire but cold all at once and the same delight I felt being in a man's arms, I felt from this creature's bite. I tried to move but there was no control over my body. Minutes passed like hours and not long after she took her bite, the heat passed. The coldness became all-consuming and with no control over my body, I couldn't tell her to stop or push her away.

I began to feel like I was fading away to nothing when she finally pulled her fangs from my throat.

Then a cold liquid touched my tongue.

* * *

_Alright, so that's it for the first chapter! I can't believe how long this is. o.o_

_Also, I know technically, my sire was supposed to be male but I'm not going to be following all the rules in this. :) Read and review, please!_


	2. The Secret of Resurrection

_**Disclaimer: **__ I do not own anything pertaining to the Vampire the Masquerade franchise. It belongs to White Wolf and other respective sponsors. I am not receiving any monetary benefit from writing this fan-fiction; it is purely for my own and others' entertainment._

_**Author's note:**__ Thanks so much for the reviews! And thanks to StarGazer for adding my story to the C2 community! Much appreciated!_

"_Deep inside the human soul_

_In its deepest recesses_

_Lies the secret of resurrection_

_It must be excavated."_

_-Octavio Paz_

"Drink, Little Red," whispered Maria.

My nerves came alive as the liquid slid down my throat and it took me a moment to realize this liquid was oozing out of her arm. This horrified me because the last time I'd ever encountered anything similar was while watching Queen of the Damned with one of my cousins. The character Marius did the very same to Lestat and like Lestat, as the blood slipped down my throat, thick and sweet; I latched onto her arm, my originally immobile hands rising to grasp her wrist. I became aware of a growling at the edge of my psyche and suddenly, why I was doing this terrible, disgusting thing was no longer important. A few swallows later, she yanked her wrist out of my grasp. My mouth attempted to follow her, dismayed that she deprived me of the sweet nectar, but I fell back against the mattress again. Unlike Lestat's turn, mine wasn't painful. My eyelids grew heavy as I felt the nerves in my body struggle to stay lit with their fire. My heartbeat slowed and my lungs drew more shallow breaths.

I didn't know how long I slept. I just knew when I woke, something was terribly, inexplicably _off_. The first two things I noticed were that my heart wasn't beating and my lungs weren't working. I became frightened. What happened? Why wasn't I breathing? Where was the calming, familiar beat of my heart? I knew what it meant for one's heart to stop beating, for one's lungs to stop working, yet to discover two major organs weren't functioning, how was it I was alive? How was I still able to retain mental function? Surely I would be dead? I reached out to nerves but found them dull in comparison to what I used to know.

Writing, my addiction and outlet since I was twelve, gave me a profound sensitivity to everything around me. I forced myself to recount every physical feeling, emotion, smell, taste, and sound so when I wrote about something, I would be able to either recount what something felt like or at least, be able to better imagine what something felt like. The fact that my nerves were now dulled and my heart and lungs no longer working frightened me a great deal.

I licked my lips nervously, only to cut my tongue on something sharp. A brief feel with the appendage introduced me to a pair of fangs. _Fangs!?_ I wanted to cry out, to move, to do something to prove to myself that this was just a terrible nightmare. I tried to coax my mind to full awareness. _Wake up! Wake up! Wake up! It's a dream! It's just a dream!_

_Don't fret, Childe of Malkav. You're one of the pack now,_ whispered a raspy feminine voice, vaguely reminiscent of Maria's, in the back of my head. Joining this voice were indistinct whispers of men and women alike, and that deep, resounding growl. In a rush, I recalled what occurred when Maria brought her wrist to my mouth.

Not new to internal conversations, I thought little of the fact that a voice other than my own just spoke to me. I might have once been greatly concerned at my own indifference, but impulsively, I went along with the voice. I wanted to know what she meant. _Childe of Malkav? Pack? What's happened to me? What did she do to me?_

_She made you pack, Childe,_ chuckled the voice,_ to match that pretty wolf paw on your arm. _I considered her words. I had two tattoos: two swirling lotus flowers with an OM symbol between my shoulders on my back, connected by a delightful black swirl, and a wolf paw tattoo on my left arm, on the smooth skin just below my wrist. It was a gift and it had a meaning, as all tattoos ought. It meant "pack pride." I was proud of my family and my sister's love of wolves had our mother calling the family a "pack" since she and I were young. Suddenly, the voice's words made some sense but of which pack was I now part?

One word resonated in my mind, bringing clarity to the hazy picture: vampire.

_Better get up, Little Wolf. The Jester-Prince sends his minions..._

Her words sharpened in my mind and the impulse drove my actions again._ I have to move! Get up! _I told my body, my chest tightening with the sudden worry of danger. Reaching out to dulled nerves, I forced myself up into a sitting position. I felt sluggish and weak with a burning in my throat as if I hadn't drunk in three days.

Maria sat on the other side of the room, tilting her head. "Welcome to unlife, Little Wolf," she said with a casual smile.

_Unlife?_ I knew that word. I'd read it hundreds of times during my teen years when I was particularly obsessed with vampires and werewolves. I spent a great deal of time with my nose buried in books to do with mythical creatures such as those. It only confirmed what my mind already concluded, but it couldn't be! Vampires didn't exist! They were just fabrications of a person's superstitions and imagination, a figment, nothing more!

Suddenly, the door came off its hinges. A blonde man in a suit rushed in and flung an object at Maria, which nailed her square in the chest. My eyes widened when I noted that it was made of wood. _Did he just stake her?!_

Shortly after, a red-haired man grabbed me by the hair and paid me the very same treatment. I couldn't even react to feeling of a long, wooden stake shoved deeply into my chest. It rendered my entire body immobile. I felt the pain, like a suffocating, hot pressure in my chest cavity but I couldn't move to remove the blasted thing from where it stuck. Everything came together in an instant: Maria's seduction, the bite, the cold liquid down my throat, the lack of a heartbeat, and the voice in my head telling me I was pack. Everything became so clear, I couldn't deny my conclusions anymore.

_ I really am a fucking vampire..._

I lie there, terrified and frozen. What's more, as the red-haired man moved aside, a familiar face looked down at me with his strange, orange eyes. The behemoth sentinel from the hotel stood over me, silent and scowling. _Y-you!_ I thought, as if he could hear me but he just stared at me.

Then the world became black.

* * *

When I became conscious again, it was shortly after the stake was removed from my chest. I wanted to cry out but only my mouth made the movement. My chest oozed black blood but I could feel muscle, sinew and bone slowly knitting itself back together. My joints ached only briefly but my mind was drawn away from my bodily pain.

My eyes sought my surroundings. I was in some type of auditorium, though the fine velvet seats and the luxurious railings on the balcony told me this place was a theatre. Scattered in small cliques or otherwise alone, there couldn't have been more than fifteen people in the seats. My eyes fell on the group off to my left in which a handsome, dark-haired man wearing a blue shirt over a white wife-beater sat with a good-looking albeit pissed-off-looking cherry-haired woman and a dark-skinned man with whom I would never want to tangle. The handsome one looked irritable, his eyebrows knitted together with displeasure, but otherwise observant.

Further on, I saw a pretty blonde woman dressed in a tweed suit and another woman, who probably outdid every woman in the room in terms of beauty, wore practically nothing but some lacy lingerie. Who would go out in public dressed like that? She blew a kiss to someone on the balcony. He was a bald man bedecked entirely in red and after pretending to be struck by her kiss, he looked down upon the scene with skeptical eyes. The way he held himself told me he had a dominant presence but his style told me he was a sophisticated individual. I was briefly reminded of Alucard from the Hellsing manga and his red trench-coat. The scent of a lit cigarette caught my nose and though I looked to find the culprit, a lanky man with a long gray-black beard and mangy black hair, I wondered how I could even smell that cigarette. I was a whole room away! Finally, my eyes settled on the older gentleman on the far right: the same one that checked out Annaliese at the hotel! I could hardly believe it! Did that mean he was a vampire too? Was everyone here a vampire?

"Good evening. My fellow Kindred..." a familiar voice addressed the gathered group. I looked up to find the handsome blonde man from the hotel standing before me. I shook my head. _What was his name?_ I wondered. _Something French. Is he a vampire too?_

_Sebastian LaCroix, Little Wolf_, said the voice in my head. _But we call him the Jester-Prince. Watch him put on his show!_

I noted Maria to my right, held in place by a firm hand on the back of her neck. I was too weak to even stand at this point, as my captor knew, and so he didn't bother to put his hands on me.

"My apologies for disrupting any business or interfering with any prior engagements you may have had this evening," continued LaCroix, waving a hand to all in attendance. He was a smooth-talker and as the voice said, he was putting on a show. However, half of his audience appeared disinterested. The older gentleman was checking his watch and the dark-skinned man whispered in his friend's ear, something about the prince and a bitch? I didn't understand. "It's unfortunate that the affair that gathers us together tonight is a troubling one. We are here because the laws that bind our society, the laws that are the fabric of our existence have been broken."

_Why do I feel like I'm on an episode of Law and Order?_ I asked myself, listening to him talk.

The voice giggled. _Because you are, Childe, only you are not the defendant._

I glanced to Maria. _Then she...?_

"As Prince, I am within my rights to grant the privilege of siring," LaCroix explained, continuing his presentation though I became quite nervous. What was going to happen to Maria? I should be angry at her for changing me into this creature but I grew fearful for her instead, which didn't seem rational to me. "Many of you have come to me, seeking permission, and I have endorsed some of these requests. However, the accused that sits before you tonight was not refused permission. Indeed. _My_ permission was never sought at all."

He sounded quite insulted by that and I could only wonder why. He claimed to be a prince but how could one rule if one didn't have enough respect to garner rapt attention from an audience of individuals that were under his supposed rule? I could only conclude by the way the older gentleman plucked the dirt under his nails and how the dark-skinned man whispered unhappily in the handsome one's ear again that either LaCroix was not a welcome member of their society or LaCroix was simply not a good Prince. Perhaps it was both? There had to be a reason the voice in my head called him the "Jester-Prince."

"They were caught shortly after the Embrace of this Childe," LaCroix said, waving a hand towards me. "It pains me to announce the sentence..." There wasn't a lick of remorse in his tone. "...as, up to tonight, I considered the accused a loyal and upstanding member of our organization, but as some of you may know, the penalty for this transgression is death." I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. _Death? Why death? What kind of Fascist bullshit is that? To die for creating another vampire without permission?_ Who needed permission to procreate? It reminded me of how a majority of the south wanted to ban abortion, even though the men behind those bans didn't have a uterus and had no right to tell me or any other woman what to do with ours.

LaCroix clasped his hands together and looked out at his audience with a sympathetic face although it was clear to me he was lying through his teeth. "Know that I am no more a judicator than a servant to the law that governs us all. Let tonight's proceeding act as a reminder to our community that we must adhere to the code that binds our society, lest we endanger all of our blood."

He bent down to look Maria in the face. "Forgive me..." He waved a hand to the dark-skinned sentinel. "Let the penalty commence."

As promised, the behemoth unsheathed an enormous sword and with a single, swift swing, separated Maria's head from her shoulders. Instead of becoming an over-all bloody mess, Maria's body crackled and turned to into a pile of hot embers and ash. What's more, I had never seen another person killed before my eyes. I looked away, closing my eyes tightly, and as if my brain was the soundboard of a piano, one of the strings snapped out of place as Maria was executed. I couldn't gather any air into my lungs to cry out. I grew dizzy and my mind spun fast. Why did this have to happen? Surely they wouldn't be stupid enough to leave me alone without someone to teach me, right? Or did that mean I too was sentenced to death, even though I didn't choose this existence? I hadn't even been in it for more than a day and a night! How could they just take it away because someone else screwed up?

LaCroix continued his presentation. "Which leads to the fate of the ill-begotten progeny. Without a Sire, most Childer are doomed to walk the Earth never knowing their place, their responsibilities, and most importantly, the laws they must obey. Therefore, I have decided that-"

LaCroix's show was interrupted by a roar from an audience member. "THIS IS BULLSHIT!"

Opening my eyes, I found the one speaking up against what I could only assume was my on-coming death was the handsome one in the blue shirt. He was furious and his friends were holding him back from acting rashly but the passion was in his eyes and the undeniable hatred for LaCroix. With his stand, so too stood others against this course of action. I couldn't express my gratefulness in words and I would probably never be able too.

LaCroix looked around the room, a brow raised at the amount of protest from the group but he seemed to consider his position and decision. "If Mr. Rodriguez would let me finish...I have decided to let this Kindred live." I felt some relief, from both my head-ache and the fact that I wasn't about to follow my 'Sire' to the grave. "They shall be instructed in the ways of our kind and be granted the same rights. Let no one say I am unsympathetic to the plights and causes of this community. I thank you all for attending these proceedings, and I hope their significance is not lost. Good evening."

With that, the meeting came to a close and I was pulled to my feet by my red-haired captor. Sebastian LaCroix turned towards me, all business, his head held high like a pride nobleman. Meanwhile, behind him, those in attendance filed out. My eyes briefly followed the dark-haired one, my savior as he left. He was built well, strong and tall with a great deal of pride in his steps.

"Your sire, my apologies, but you see, there is a strict code of conduct that we must...must adhere to if we wish to survive..." He beckoned me to follow and though I was unsure about following him, I did so when a glance to the other blonde and the red-head earned me some displeased glares for not complying instantly. My legs were shaky as I walked behind him. I almost tripped on my own feet coming down the step and into the back halls of the theatre. "When someone, anyone, breaks these laws, they undermine the well-worn fabric of our centuries old society. So you understand my predicament." _I think your predicament is bullshit,_ I thought to myself. "Allowing you to live makes me directly responsible for your subsequent behavior. What I'm offering is not generosity but the opportunity to transcend the fate woven by your Sire."

LaCroix stopped beside the door and turned back to face me. The fluorescent lights above made him look extremely pale. "This is your trial. You will be brought to Santa Monica. There, you will meet an agent by the name of Mercurio. He will provide the details of your labor." He leaned toward me which made my entire body rigid with dislike, which only served to make him sneer. Something deep inside me growled a warning, which thankfully, didn't resonate in my own throat. "I've shown you great clemency. Prove it was more than a wasted gesture, Fledgling, and don't come back until you do. Good evening."

He opened the door and gestured for me to leave. So, he gave me orders and then I was supposed to simply follow them? After he killed Maria, the only person who might have offered me some reprieve in this new life? I might not have known Maria or been happy about this new existence but now I couldn't even pick that bone with her because she was dead. I had no teacher and he was going to send me into the world without educating me on what to do or how to act? However, I could feel his dominance, his age over me just standing near him and he must have been in this world a great deal longer than I so picking a fight with him wasn't a good idea.

I wasn't violent by nature but the way he sneered at me made me want to tear his throat out. _Don't bother with the Jester-Prince just now, Little Wolf. You'll get your chance. Someone's waiting for you outside.._.said raspy feminine voice. As she spoke, visions danced in my sight, things I didn't understand but understood all too well. LaCroix and my dark-haired savior stood at a crossroads, both with their own regiments of men and women, other vampires. The bearded man stood beside me with a cold smirk on his face. He lit a cigarette and very suddenly, LaCroix burst into flames with a scream of pain.

"Fledgling?" questioned LaCroix, drawing me away from the vision.

I smiled though. I had a very good feeling about this vision. I felt reminded, strangely, of Hannibal the Conqueror and his battles against Rome. My savior was Hannibal and the Jester-Prince was Gaius Varro, a fool too eager to gain power, too eager to battle. Varro lost his battle against Hannibal and LaCroix too would lose against my dark-haired savior.

I considered how to speak. I needed air but to get air, I had to suck it into my lungs. That usually required my diaphragm to work, didn't it? I took a breath, knowing now I would actually need to put an effort into using my lungs, and then grinned. _"Au revoir,_ Varro," I said with a dismissive wave of my hand, which caused the Prince to frown a great deal but I didn't stay longer than that.

Stepping out into the hot Los Angeles night, I looked around for the certain someone that the voice in my head spoke of. I found him leaning against the wall near the door: the bearded man. My voice came before I could even think to stop it. "Hey there, lanky Jack," I greeted. The man pushed himself off the wall.

I became a little concerned about the sudden impulsivity. Where did it come from? Sure, as a human, I had moments of impulse, which usually got me into some pretty stupid situations but this was far more defined than that. It almost became part of my being, to speak, to do on impulse. And how did I know his name? I hadn't even formally met him yet!

He turned his head, raised a brow and then burst out laughing. "Hahaha! What a scene, man! Woo-hee! Then they just plop you out here like a naked baby in the woods! How 'bout that?" He shook his head and then grew a little more serious. "Look, this is probably a lot to take in, kid. So let me show you the ropes. What do ya say?"

Again, I spoke impulsively and the words I spoke I didn't understand yet they understood me perfectly. "The rain of ages plots again to wash away revelation."

* * *

_Alright, so I know this chapter was fast-paced. Just a couple of things: I know it seems like I'm kinda standing outside of my Malkavian persona yet and that's because I'm still in transition. The blood hasn't taken its full effect yet but as it does, the "OMG, what the dajdfkjd is going on?" will eventually dissolve into craziness and the writing will become more Malkavian, for sure, as it did in the last couple of sentences._

_Second, I'm aware I haven't addressed the issue of family. I think I would be too freaked out about the fact that I've just been Embraced and nearly had my head taken off by Magilla Gorilla and LaCroix to be worried about my family. The family thing will hit me in the next couple of chapters though._

_Thanks again to those reading and following along! I really appreciate your input! Please, continue to let me know how I'm doing, any changes I may need to make and any other comments you might have! I do take my reader's pointers into consideration while I'm writing. _


	3. The Mind is Not a Vessel to be Filled

**_Disclaimer:_**_I do not own anything pertaining to the Vampire the Masquerade franchise. It belongs to White Wolf and other respective sponsors. I am not receiving any monetary benefit from writing this fan-fiction; it is purely for my own and others' entertainment._

_Author's Note: Thanks again to those reading and reviewing! I really appreciate your input and it just gives me more and more incentive to write!_

* * *

_"The mind is not a vessel to be filled, but a fire to be kindled."_

_-Plutarch_

"What?" Jack tilted his head just a bit, and then he seemed to realize what was going on. "Oh, man, and you're a goddamned Malkavian too! You really are fucked!"

It was my turn to tilt a head. "My minds don't know this word: Malkavian."

"Shit…" Jack rubbed the back of his neck. "Put it this way, your great-great-grandsire was fucking nuts and he passed it onto you. You're gonna have visions, probably lose what sanity you've got left once the blood takes hold, and let's just say, you already talk funny. If you're lucky, it won't get worse."

Well, that explained a lot in a short amount of words. Jack didn't slap me with an encyclopedia but the visions he spoke of I'd already experienced and the general lack of sanity bit explained the woman's voice in my head letting me know the score when I needed to know. Talking funny seemed impulsive and as much as I wanted to speak normally, my voice refused to comply and the whispers in my thoughts made my head feel cluttered.

"Look, I'm offerin' help and I got about this much time." He indicated with a show of his thumb and index finger just how much time he had. That didn't seem like much. Shouldn't he be gone by now? I wondered with a silly internal giggle.

My amusement dissipated when a loud, unhappy growl in my head drowned out the entirety of the wistful whispers dancing around in there. The burning feeling in my throat grew worse and I trembled. I hadn't felt that weak in a long time. My body ached. I was so hungry. I needed something to make the burning stop and to calm the growling beast in my head.

"You look wobbly," Jack observed. "You even had a drink yet?"

"Wobbly are the walls of my mind," I replied with a shake of my head.

He gave a happy hoot of laughter. "Oh man, we're poppin' a cheery here! Hahaha!" I enjoyed the sound of his laughter; it helped to dull the growling in my head. "Oh-ho, you're gonna love this, kid. Blood? It's your new rack of lamb, your new champagne! Shit, it's your new fucking heroin, kid! Get ready though 'cuz hey, it's never as sweet as the first time." He grinned at me, revealing his wicked white fangs.

"Sweet like a prom date?" I inquired.

"Well, around the corner there," he said, pointing behind me, "I saw this human. Poor S.O.B. can't find his car. Hehehe."

I rubbed my throat, hoping to ease the burn but it did little to quell the heat, the need, and his suggestion of this human down the way…The growling in my head grew louder, demanding I go to this human and take the nectar of the gods from his body but as I turned to go do so, Jack grabbed my arm.

"Take it easy, kid," he said. "I know what you got in mind but you gotta be careful."

I gave a frustrated sigh. "How do I do this dread deed?"

"Just go down there all casual-like, sneak up behind him, bare those little fangs and feed. It'll come so natural you'd think you'd done it a thousand times already." I turned again but he gave me a little yank so I was looking at him again. "Also, and this is very important so listen up. Be sure not to drain'im dry. It'll be hard to resist but don't kill'im."

I nodded slowly, wondering how I would know when to stop but the growling grew so loud I couldn't concentrate on my own inner voice. I let the beast lead me around the corner and instead of walking casually behind the guy, wandering confused and displeased through the alley, I crouched low, my eyes sharpening. I could hear his heartbeat and smell the blood in him through the harsh scent of his cologne. He smelled so sweet and hot, like a milk chocolate kiss on a summer day. The beast growled, more predatory than ever and as I came up close to him, my body couldn't take it anymore. I needed it, the blood, the sweet, delectable vitae in this man's blessed neck.

My hand flung forward, grabbing the man by the scruff of his shirt. I pulled him close, snaking my arms around his neck, and before he could react or cry out, I sunk my teeth into his jugular. It was strange, the reaction I received. He buckled, molding against me as if his body were made for mine and he moaned. The beast inside purred and I gurgled in response as the man's life-blood spilled hot and sweet into my mouth. I closed my eyes to enjoy the full extent of what blood did to my body. I could feel it pouring through every appendage, every nerve, and every beautiful little molecule. It woke my body and yet lulled it to sleep. It was better than anything I'd ever encountered. It was better than chocolate, than vodka, than sex. It was better than all of those things I so adored as a mortal.

The answer to my earlier question appeared as soon as I tasted him. With each gulp of blood, I could feel his heart beating as if it were in my own chest. It was a strange thing for me, given that my own heart no longer beat. Perhaps it was his proximity that I could feel his heart but ultimately this phenomenon procured the answer I required. How would I know when to stop? After several gulps his heartbeat began to slow.

_Pull away now, Childe,_ the raspy voice said. _And lick the wound._

I did as I was told and pulled away, letting my tongue lap up the blood that slipped out of the corner of my mouth while I fed. A lick to the wound sealed the two punctures shut. I opened my eyes, growling low in my throat as I looked into the man's face. The delight of that experience would forever be burned into my memory.

He stood there, wobbling, and if I weren't so dizzy with my own pleasure, I might have put him somewhere safe. I simply left him there to wobble. He might be robbed or killed in this alley but I didn't care.

I returned to Jack. He stood at the other side of the alley, leaning against a dented metal door.

Jack grinned and squinted at me, bending his neck to look me square in the face. "Oh yeah, hell yeah…I can see it in your eyes." He spoke low and soft, like seeing me come back from my first drink was the sexiest thing he'd ever seen. I liked his tone. What did I look like to make him talk in that tone? "You're a born-again predator. Feel that blood bubblin' up inside you, liftin' you up. Yeah, that's what it's all about right there."

I felt alive now. The voices were soft at the edge of my mind and the beast was silent. _Did she curl up somewhere in my psyche for a much-needed nap?_ My mind at ease and my stomach full of hot blood, I grinned at Jack. "So spooky!" I agreed, feeling like a wolf pup that just caught her first rabbit. "So when do I choose to color of my cape?"

I was referring, of course, to the separated ranks of Varro and Hannibal's forces. I wanted to go against LaCroix and his gorilla but Jack brought me back to the situation at hand: my education.

"Alright now, so you got the blood, you're feelin' all kick-ass, feelin' better than your best day livin', but wait! It gets better! All Kindred…" He paused briefly, recalling that he was talking to someone who didn't know the terms of the new world. "Kindred…that's our word for vampire…" I nodded and logged it away in my memory for later use. "All Kindred have a few things in common that set them right above humans on the food chain."

I tilted my head, listening carefully like a good little pup. "Tell me this tale." I wanted to know what abilities I gained in dying.

"Like sharper senses, a body that can take a beating and if you play your cards right, eternal life." He shrugged. "That's no sure bet but still, a chance at immortality's not a bad deal. And that's just fringe benefits for joining the club."

"My lifeline will go on forever?" I asked.

Jack shook his head. "Well, you can still be destroyed but forget the books and the movies, kid. Garlic? It's worthless. A cross? Shove it up their ass! Hahah! A stake? Only if it catches you in the heart and then it just paralyzes you." That was an experience I didn't want to repeat. Hopefully LaCroix would keep his stakes to himself in the future. "Running water? No problem. I bathe…occasionally." He brought both index fingers to his temple. "Now a shotgun blast to the head, oh, that's trouble, boy…Fire? That's real trouble. Sunlight? Well, put it this way, kid, you catch a sunrise and it's all over. Got it?"

I nodded. "Like a bad sunburn."

Jack grinned. "Okay now—"

Shots rang at the other side of the building, shattering the mellow vibe of our back alley conversation. Howls of laughter sliced through the night and I raised a brow, looking over toward the wooden fence to my left.

"What the fuck is this?" Jack asked. He didn't bother to get an answer when he lock picked the door behind him with such deftness; I instantly wanted to know how he did it. "Get in here, kid, and head upstairs. We'll meet up in a bit. I'm gonna go find out what this ruckus is."

I silently entered the dark room but my eyes adjusted instantly to the dark and I could see this was some kind of car repair shop but another glance around gave me a little more insight. Perhaps it was the frame of an old Volkswagen in the corner that made me think it or as I ventured in, the lack of bar codes on the boxes containing car parts, as well as the locale, but it seemed to me like this place was a little more than just a repair shop. I decided not to dwell on it and tried to figure out a way up to the second floor. Jack said he'd meet me there after all.

Stepping back to fully take in my surroundings, my path aligned with the car frame and the boxes. If I was able to jump just high enough, I would be able to make it to the second floor. I wasn't into parkour due to my dislike of running, as well as my poor balance (which was probably why I wiped out so much while I was attempting to surf.) However, my body was stronger now, my senses sharper. Perhaps that poor balance was merely a human weakness and nothing more. I didn't have to trust in old doubts to make me fall.

I bolted, up the hood of the car, across the top, up the mountain of boxes and over the railing onto a grated-steel catwalk. It was easy as slicing through pie! I felt a little ego boost tighten in my chest. I would never have landed that the first time, not when I was human.

Recalling my mission, I began making my way toward the moonlight shining through a window at the end of the catwalk. On my way something shiny caught my eye and I paused to see what it was. At a first glance, it looked like a Swiss Army Pocketknife. Upon closer inspection, however, I found it to be a lock pick.

_Oh, what a lovely twist of fate,_ I thought with a smile_. We'll have to put you to use!_

I made it to the end of the walk, briefly glancing in the windows of the office. I found Jack when I rounded the corner. He beckoned me closer. "Stay away from the windows," he whispered.

I stepped closer to the far wall and made my way over to him.

"It's a Sabbat raid," he grumbled with a glance out the window. I could almost see the vein popping out on his forehead. "The Sabbat, they're uh…Shit, I wanted to wait for this shit later…but basically, the Sabbat…they're just mindless, blood-thirsty assholes. That's all you really need to know, alright?"

I looked outside as well, the nearly calming sound of distant gunshots filling my ears. "Where does this path lead?"

"The Sabbat got wind of the gathering here. Must've decided to raise a little hell and put some heat on the new 'prince.'" I could tell Jack was about as thrilled by LaCroix as Hannibal and the rest in the theatre.

"Tell me of the Jester-Prince!" I said, wanting to know what he thought of LaCroix. It probably wasn't much different from my opinion. LaCroix only appeared to regurgitate shit.

"No time for political run-down," Jack refused, shaking his head. "Job one, get outta here alive. The Sabbat might be mindless but they hit like a mack truck, like raging savages. Nothing a fledgling like you wants to mess with."

Our attention was drawn away from the conversation by the sound of nearby bullets. I bent low out of instinct. I grew up in the Midwest and was acquainted with hunting rifles and other guns. Last thing I wanted was to draw the attention of someone's barrel. Jack bent down next to me and we peered through the windows.

In the alley where we stood earlier, there were three men holding guns. It was clear they weren't human. Two of them had unusual eyes, all black except for red irises. The one in the middle was especially conspicuous with his elongated arms and fur. He looked like a werewolf caught between forms. LaCroix's gorilla appeared at the end of the alley, having lazily flung open the gate. One of the red-eyed ones howled with laughter and raised a gun in the air, wasting precious ammo. Not that it would matter. The sentinel raised his hand into the air. His fist glowed blue and behind the two red-eyed Sabbat appeared glowing, ethereal wolves.

My heart leapt at the sight of them, even as they pounced upon their prey and tore their spines out of their backs. The two dissolved into ash and ember. The half-formed vampire looked horrified and opted to run toward the gorilla in order to get away from the wolves. He didn't get far either. The behemoth blew him a kiss and he met the same fate as his comrades.

Jack tapped my shoulder, drawing my attention away from the windows. "Frenzied Sabbat bastards…We gotta vamoose out the back here. I'll stay and keep a look out. Get us into the office, alright? Door's around the corner here."

I decided very quickly that I really liked Jack. Even in sticky situations, he knew what to do. Then again, he'd been in this sticky web longer than I so it was probably almost second nature by now. I crept around the corner to the office door and lifted my lock pick to it. Firstly, I'd never before picked a lock in my life, though I once tried with hairpin and got no reaction so figuring out how to use the lock pick was a trick. It took me several minutes of twisting, turning and digging just to hear a click before the door finally popped open.

I made my way into the office. Of course, just as I did so, a crash of glass further in startled me. I found Jack standing there, looking at his handy work. "Impatient?" I questioned.

"Uh…shortcut," Jack replied with an uneasy laugh. He admired his destruction. "Nicely done though." He looked back at me. "Not exactly an angel in life, were you?"

I said nothing. Truth be told, I was very good about keeping my own secrets as a teenager. Nowadays, I didn't have the patience to deal with secrets and so I kept none. This new existence, however, would force it and so I just smirked his way.

"Cool. So if you wanna take a lesson on how not to act, take it from those Sabbat assholes." He shook his head. "So you're a big bad vampire. Great, congrats, but keep it to yourself. Ya beat your chest and go roar and that's what you can expect." He pointed a thumb towards the windows.

I didn't bother to ask why we needed to hide our nature. I read the books, I knew the score. Vampires were secret creatures and rightly so. Any exposure usually involved fire and death, and I wasn't about to throw away my life by telling some human about my condition, not when I so nearly lost it a little over an hour ago.

"Keep our secrets secret and it makes things easier on all of us," Jack explained. "We're livin' in the age of cell phone cameras. Fuck-ups ain't tolerated. Makes sense, right?" I nodded. "Well, it ain't a casual thing for a fledgling like you."

My eyebrows knitted together in confusion. What exactly wasn't casual? "My mind is beginning to cloud. Shine a light and explain."

"That party back there with the guy in the suit and the Magilla Gorilla—the assholes that put your Sire to death? That's the Camarilla." The word 'Camarilla' brought several visions at once. Several men gathered in a round room with Corinthian columns and bedecked in Roman togas, fanged smiles and a red pyramid. "They make a tiddy business out of enforcing vampire laws." Jack spat in disgust.

"Ah," I said.

"Yeah, I'll tell you what I think some other time, maybe," he continued, folding his arms across his chest. "Let you form your own opinion."

"Hmph," I huffed. "My minds have many opinions…" They did have many opinions, about LaCroix, about his behemoth sentinel, about this Camarilla and their bullshit laws. They all agreed though: they didn't like the Camarilla.

"I'm sure," Jack replied. "Anyway, I'm glad we're in this situation, you and I. Illustrates a point: Gotta utilize your surroundings."

He did have a good point. I was learning a great deal from Lanky Jack, just following along. I was grateful that he didn't just usher me along like LaCroix did either. I enjoyed learning purely for the sake of learning as a mortal and Jack seemed fine with bringing my mind to a focus. I couldn't imagine what kind of trouble I would've gotten into if Jack didn't take me under his wing.

"We gotta get out the back through that magnetically sealed door," he said, indicating to the door on the other side of the room. "Go find a key."

"I shall seek it," I promised, going to look around.

As I passed the computer, a whisper danced across my thoughts. It was a man's voice this time. _Chopshop_…

I paused then and looked at the computer.

The voice said it again. _Chopshop…_

Putting the pieces together took a little longer than I might have liked but my strange impulses pulled me to sit in the computer chair.

**Hit CTRL + C to begin.**

I quirked a brow and followed the directions, only to be brought to a menu. I'd never used a computer this old before. At the top of the screen, it indicated that if I wanted to select something, I would have to type the word. The only available commands were **SAFE**, **HELP**, and **QUIT**.

Perhaps the key was hiding in the safe to my right? That sounded like a safe place to keep a key after all.

I typed in the word **SAFE** and came to a third screen with the words **HOME**, **UNLOCK**, and **LOCK**. So I typed in the second option in order to unlock the safe. A mostly blank screen appeared, save for **PASSWORD** at the bottom of the screen.

_Chopshop_…said the voice.

Taking a cue from this voice, I typed in the word **CHOPSHOP**, only to hear a resounding click from the safe as it came unlocked. Quitting the program and feeling quite smug, I stood. The safe door made a soft squeal as I opened it and discovered the key hidden within. I was right! It was a safe place after all!

"Good," Jack said. "Now take that key and head out the back. I'll meet you out in the alley."

Following Jack's instructions, I slipped down the back stairwell, secretly enjoying the way the heel of my boots clicked against the cement stairs as I descended. Using the key, I unlocked and opened the door. However, as I took my first step into another alleyway, I was met with several small impacts at once, which buried themselves into my arms, chest, and one even grazed my head. I staggered with each blow and it almost felt like small bee stings every time one hit me.

_HEY! What the FUCK?!_ I thought, unhappily. _Who just shot me?!_


End file.
